


adore you

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Established Relationship, M/M, Nude Modeling, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21789931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: “I want to breathe him, feel him fill up my chest until my ribs strain and I break open like ripe fruit beneath a paring knife. I would be raw. I would freckle and blister in the sun. I would teach my body to regrow my heart each time I gave it to him, over and over and over again.”or: lucas models for eliott
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 6
Kudos: 331





	adore you

**Author's Note:**

> “I want to be the only thing touching him. I want to be the only thing that ever touches him again. I will be envious of every shirt he ever wears, the cuffs of his coats, the trousers going soft with wear where they rub his inner thighs. Every snowflake that ever falls upon his lips, every piece of bread upon his tongue. I want to breathe him, feel him fill up my chest until my ribs strain and I break open like ripe fruit beneath a paring knife. I would be raw. I would freckle and blister in the sun. I would teach my body to regrow my heart each time I gave it to him, over and over and over again. Heart after heart after heart — every one of them his.”
> 
> -Mackenzi Lee, The Gentleman’s Guide to Getting Lucky

“come on, baby,” eliott begs, tugging on the end of the sheets that lucas had cocooned around himself. “it’s not that big of a deal, i promise.”

lucas scoffs, “it’s not to _you!_ you’re not the one getting naked!”

“baby, i’ve seen you naked plenty of times. i saw you naked this morning.”

lucas just groans, pulling the sheets tighter around himself. eliott tries his best not to laugh, crawling up further on the bed and pulling on a loose bit near lucas’s head. he almost manages to unravel him, but lucas is quick, and somehow gets the blanket tucked around him so tightly that eliott can’t find a single handhold. 

“i just want some practice,” eliott repeats, for the fifteenth time since he asked lucas for this favor. “we’re having our first nude model in class on monday and i’ve never done it before, i don’t want to _offend_ her by doing it wrong.”

“oh, so you’d rather offend your boyfriend?”

eliott rolls his eyes, “no. if i mess up my drawing of you, i can start over as many times as i need to until i get it perfect. so _please?_ pretty please? nobody but me will ever see the drawing, i swear. you don’t even have to see it if you don’t want to.”

“so i’m just meant to stand in the middle of the living room with my dick out and let you stare at me for hours?” lucas asks. eliott hadn’t realized how appealing this whole thing was until lucas had put it so eloquently, honestly. he tells lucas as much. “fuck you. no. that’s so embarrassing, i’m not just going to let you stare at my naked body for hours. you know what happens when you stare at somebody attractive for too long? you start realizing they’re ugly as hell. that’s why i like to be on my stomach when we fuck.”

eliott laughs despite himself, shoving lucas’s shoulder through the sheets. “fuck off, that’s not true. you’re beautiful.” he presses a kiss to the place he’d shoved. “please let me draw you, baby. let me draw you like one of my french girls.”

“that joke doesn’t really land when all of your ex-girlfriends are french girls.”

“it’s not a joke. i’ve drawn my ex-girlfriends.”

lucas immediately pulls the sheets off of his face, glaring at eliott. if looks could kill, eliott would be six feet under. 

“okay, okay, relax, i’m fucking with you.” he doesn’t have time to celebrate the fact that his teasing got lucas out, because he’s covering himself up just as fast. eliott quickly moves his arm and catches the edge of the sheet, pulling it down to lucas’s chest before lucas can tuck it around him again. “hi. can i please draw you?” he asks, looking into lucas’s eyes now that they’re visible. 

“hi. go fuck yourself.” lucas pulls on the sheets again, but eliott doesn’t let up. he also doesn’t stop staring, poking his bottom lip out in a pout and making the best puppy dog eyes he can manage. “don’t do that, eliott, that’s cheating. you know i can’t say no to that face.”

“then don’t,” eliott grins, before quickly pouting again. 

lucas groans, releasing his grip on the sheets and sitting up. “fine! but nobody is ever going to see this drawing or any drafts of it, okay? we’re burning them as soon as you’re done,” he insists, holding his pinky out for eliott to pinky-promise. “promise?”

eliott links their fingers, and kisses them. “i promise.” he climbs off of the bed to grab his sketchbook and charcoal pencils, and then moves to the living room to set up. he makes sure the curtains are open to let light in, but closes the blinds so nobody can see in. he drapes a white sheet across the floor to give himself a solid background, and makes a mental note to tell lucas to stand centered in the windows. 

it’ll be ethereal lighting, with lucas surrounded by the last bits of daylight. he’ll look even more like an angel than he already does. maybe eliott will take some creative liberty and add some wings or a halo. 

okay—no, he won’t. not this time anyway. 

he sits back on the couch and opens to a clean page, waiting for lucas to emerge from the bedroom. he contemplates putting on some music or something, just to help lucas feel less awkward, but decides against it when he realizes it’ll only distract him. as much as he loves looking at lucas naked, this really _is_ just him trying to practice before their nude model comes in on monday. 

lucas comes out of the bedroom a few moments later, wrapped in a robe and scowling at eliott. eliott just smiles at him and shows him where to stand, adjusting his positioning until it’s perfect. 

“how am i supposed to pose? like, do i just stand here or what?” 

“you will be standing, but i’ll tell you what to do. otherwise your only job is to stand there and look pretty.” he winks at lucas, and then points with his pencil. “drop the robe, baby.”

lucas sticks his tongue out at him but obliges, carefully taking off his robe and tossing it aside. he’s clearly nervous and self conscious, folding in on himself, covering his dick with one hand as if eliott isn’t extremely well acquainted with it. as if eliott can’t imagine its weight on his tongue just by looking at it. as if eliott’s mouth isn’t _watering._

but this is just art class. eliott can’t fuck the model. 

“okay, stand with your feet shoulder length apart,” eliott instructs. lucas nods and adjusts his stance. “lean your weight onto your left leg and cock your hip out.” lucas does that, too, and his cheeks start turning a pretty pink. “leave your left arm down, but bend your right arm at the elbow until your fist is level with your chin, and then curl your right hand into a fist.” lucas takes a second to figure out what eliott means, but once he’s got it, he takes eliott’s breath away. “gorgeous. you look so perfect.”

“shut the fuck up and get on with it, i’m already cold.”

“yes sir,” eliott teases, and then pulls his knees up to rest his sketchbook on them. he starts his first line as the slope of lucas’s side, and he can already tell that he’s going to have trouble finishing this drawing. just staring at lucas like this, studying every line and edge and curve of his body, is getting eliott hard. 

not that it’s really that odd, getting hard from the view of his naked boyfriend. it’s fairly normal. it’s just that… they see each other naked a lot. they shower together, walk around the apartment naked sometimes, sleep naked sometimes, change in front of each other. and every time lucas is naked in front of him, eliott admires the view. but he doesn’t always get hard from it. turned on, maybe. but not desperate. not mouth-wateringly, overwhelmingly horny to the point that it’s all he can think about. 

he forces the thoughts away, focusing on the outlines of lucas’s hips. lucas isn’t a great model, really; he’s moving too much and isn’t maintaining a blank facial expression. but eliott doesn’t really care. he knows lucas’s body, could probably draw this from memory, he just likes drinking in his honey colored skin like he needs it to breathe. 

“can you stay still, please?” eliott asks. his voice sounds rough, and his throat is alarmingly dry. he’d get some water, but if he gets up, lucas will see the tent in his pants and it’ll only embarrass him further. eliott doesn’t want lucas to be embarrassed by his nudity, especially not in front of _him._ eliott should always be the person that lucas is most comfortable in front of, no matter what state of vulnerability he’s in—physical or emotional. 

lucas sighs. “it’s hard to hold my arm up like this,” he complains, but he stays still anyway. his nipples are hard, and eliott wants to lick them, suck them—but he can’t. he _can’t,_ he can’t. 

they don’t speak for a long time, the only sounds filling the room being lucas’s breathing and eliott’s pencil scratching the paper. eliott’s having to focus completely on the drawing, looking at lucas’s body as objectively as he can manage. it’s working pretty well, though, because within an hour he has the majority of the drawing done, and starts working on shaping the body more accurately and adding more details and shading. 

this, of course, means he has to look closer. has to look past the curve of lucas’s hip to add in the tiny hip-dips he has. has to look past the fluffy hair on his head and draw in the hairline and the cowlick in the front. has to look past the roundness of his thighs and draw in the creases of his groin. eliott climbs off of the couch and sits on the floor, scoots closer to him and squints at him. 

the drawing is angled slightly, which eliott had done deliberately to include the swell of lucas’s ass. he wanted to include every aspect of lucas’s gorgeous body, and makes himself a mental note to draw lucas from behind one day. lucas’s back could sell for millions. 

“i feel very exposed right now,” lucas whispers as eliott rakes his eyes across his pelvis and draws in his v-line as accurately to shape as possible. “do you have to sit so close? i’m about to file harassment charges.”

“hush, i’m almost done.” he leans in, presses the lightest kiss to the outside of lucas’s kneecap. “you look amazing.”

“you’re biased.”

eliott snorts, “how? i didn’t know you from the next guy when i first came to your school, and i fell in love with you anyway. you’re telling me i was biased for someone i didn’t even know?”

“maybe,” lucas says, but he’s blushing again. eliott moves back to sit on the couch. “i don’t know. don’t you believe in soulmates and all that shit? maybe that’s why you’re biased.”

“do you not believe in soulmates?”

“i don’t know.” lucas licks his lips and adjusts his arm again. eliott almost tells him to stay still, but bites it back. he’s doing good, and eliott has his arm drawn anyway. “i mean, i know i couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. and i know that it _feels_ like we were made for each other. but soulmates just… it feels too good to be true, in a way, you know?”

eliott shrugs, “maybe. but i thought this relationship was too good to be true, and look where we are now. so maybe some things are just good things and we need to learn to accept them rather than doubting that everyone, even ourselves, deserves good things.”

“you’re annoying,” lucas huffs. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.” he puts the finishing line on the drawing, and then holds it out in front of him. it’s not perfect by any means, and he _definitely_ didn’t do lucas’s gorgeous, sculpted-by-the-gods body any justice, but it’s better than he’d thought. 

and, anyway, he has more important things to do than redraw right now. 

“yeah, for absolutely fucking sure, nobody else is seeing that drawing,” eliott says, closing his notebook and putting it aside. he stands, then, wiping his cramping hand on his sweats and then shaking it out. he’s about to need it. 

lucas frowns. “that bad? i’m sorry, was i moving too much?”

“no, you were perfect.” eliott steps forward, runs his hands down lucas’s chest, over his hardened nipples. lucas’s breath hitches but, for whatever reason, he doesn’t break his pose. “so perfect. _too_ perfect. can’t believe this body is mine. hold your pose,” eliott murmurs, because he has an idea. 

lucas doesn’t argue this time, just moans softly as eliott begins kissing down his neck towards his chest. he bends his knees a bit to be at the correct level and then gently laves his tongue over lucas’s nipple, using his fingers on the other one. 

“fuck,” lucas pants out. “shit.”

eliott hums in agreement, sucking the nipple into his mouth for a few moments before kissing his way over to the next one. he can feel the way lucas’s arm twitches under the touch, but he doesn’t move more than that. eliott mentally praises him for being such a good boy for him. 

“you are so beautiful,” eliott murmurs between open mouthed kisses to his skin. “i can’t believe you’re mine. i can’t believe i get to look at you like this, draw you like this.”

“just you,” lucas confirms, breath clearly stolen away. eliott is honored that he gets to have that, too. “always you. fuck. touch me.”

eliott hums again, moving his wet kisses further down. he tells himself that this will only help his art, because what better way to acquaint himself with lucas’s body than to map it out with his tongue? he’ll be able to remember the taste of every single line later on, when he tries that drawing again. 

eventually he sinks to his knees, his kisses falling on lucas’s hips and inner thighs, everywhere except where lucas wants them most. but lucas is good, and lucas won’t move no matter how much he wants to. he’ll hold his pose, just like eliott asked. 

“i didn’t need to look at this,” eliott says, taking lucas into his hand and dry stroking him slowly, just so lucas can feel it. “i know this very well. could draw it from memory, if i wanted.” he presses a kiss to the head, and then suckles on it. as vivid as his imagination may be, it pales in comparison to actually having lucas in his mouth. “thankfully, i don’t have to. love you.” and then he swallows lucas down as far as he can, and lucas _still_ doesn’t break his pose. 

lucas moans, though, and eliott can feel how his thighs tremble. he loves knowing he can make lucas come apart like this, feel this damn good. “love you more. fuck, eliott, love you so much. can i touch you?” he asks. 

as much as eliott wants him to hold the pose, he knows that lucas must be buzzing under his skin, aching to stretch his muscles. and he’s been so good. “yes,” he says, and then swallows lucas down again. 

almost immediately, tense fingers tangle themselves in eliott’s hair—not pushing, just anchoring himself down. lucas’s other hand rests on the side of eliott’s face, fingers tracing the shell of eliott’s ear and thumb rubbing along eliott’s top lip, feeling where his own dick is rubbing against it, smearing drool everywhere. it’s the most obscene, most beautiful thing lucas has ever done, touching eliott like this. and lucas has had his tongue in places that the sun has never touched. 

eliott is hard again, straining against his briefs and nearly tenting his sweats. he palms himself a couple of times to let some pressure off, but it only serves to make him more desperate to mark lucas up. 

he pulls off, sits back on his haunches and jerks lucas off, using his own leftover saliva as lube. “i’m so goddamn lucky to get to look at you, touch you, feel you.” he runs his free hand up lucas’s thigh, traces the tan lines on his hips, feels the cellulite and stretch marks there, dips his fingers in them and commits them to memory. “to be the first one who’s ever touched you like this, and felt you like this. hopefully the only one, too, if you’ll have me.”

“of course— fuck, of course. you’re the only one i want.”

“good,” eliott nods. “i’m the jealous type.”

“no reason to be. i’m not going anywhere. never.”

eliott lets go of his dick, runs his hands over every inch of skin he can reach, coating bits of lucas’s perfect skin in spit and precum. it’s gross, objectively, but in the heat of the moment it’s _hot,_ so hot that eliott is tempted to lick up the trails he’s leaving behind. but he has things to say, first. 

“i’m jealous of everybody who’s ever seen you before me, even if it wasn’t sexual. every boy in every locker room, every friend you’ve changed in front of. i’m the possessive type, too.” it’s too much. it’s… it’s _weird._ but lucas is just staring down at him, eyes all hooded and clouded with lust and adoration, so eliott continues. “i love you so much. i love everything about you. sometimes i— sometimes i feel like loving you is such a huge part of me, like you could split my ribs like a pomegranate and you would come spilling out of me.”

lucas gasps in little breaths, and eliott can’t tell if he’s close and desperate to come or if he’s overwhelmed. 

he stands, running his drying hands over the expanse of his chest, around his shoulders, and down his shoulder blades and the knobs of his spine. he allows his fingers to rest at the top of his ass, feeling where he can dip his fingers in, teasing lucas with the pads of his fingers, never going deeper. 

“i hope…” lucas whispers, but trails off, breath catching as eliott’s fingers trace his hole. he tries again, “i hope you don’t touch the other model like this.”

“never,” eliott whispers, lips pressing at the soft spot behind lucas’s ear. “only you. you’re mine and i’m yours, i’m all yours.”

“i don’t care that i’m not your first,” lucas whispers, “so long as i’m your last.”

“you’re my forever.”

then they’re kissing, and lucas tastes like watermelons, and eliott suddenly wishes he hadn’t smeared lucas’s precum everywhere because he needs to get inside him like _yesterday_ but his fingers are dry and they definitely need lube. he pulls back slowly, trying not to give in when lucas whines and tries to pull him back in. 

“gonna get lube,” eliott murmurs. “hold your pose.” he waits to watch lucas get back into position, and then he hurries into the bedroom. after stripping himself naked, he grabs the lube from lucas’s drawer and then gets a condom. but then he freezes. they don’t use a condom every time anymore, and eliott has a thought. a very interesting thought. he drops the condom and pushes the drawer closed with his hip. 

he comes up behind lucas when he returns, and smooths his hands over his shoulder blades. he really will have to draw this side of him, one day. if lucas will let him. 

eliott drops to his knees, presses a kiss to the bottom of lucas’s spine. “every single inch of you is perfect, i don’t understand,” he whispers. “i don’t understand how god can create someone so fucking beautiful and then make him love _me._ you’re way too good for me.” he doesn’t give lucas time to protest, spreading him open and licking into him without any further preamble. eliott’s never been good at dragging things out. 

lucas falls apart, just like he always does when eliott uses his tongue to open him up. he isn’t holding his pose anymore, but eliott doesn’t fault him for it. he just digs his fingers harder into his cheeks and then buries his face further between them. he can’t really breathe, but it’s worth it. dying while eating lucas out is one hell of a way to go, and eliott wouldn’t even be mad about it. besides, isn’t this really the best way to die—on your knees, worshipping your god? 

eliott isn’t particularly religious. lucas is his religion. his music. his _best_ music. his best religion. 

he pulls back long enough to lube up two fingers, and slips those in along with his tongue. eliott can’t be sure how lucas has managed to remain standing up, but he doesn’t dare ask. he doesn’t want to break the spell, wants lucas to stay standing just like this. it’s all part of his plans. 

he crooks his fingers until lucas’s entire body twitches, and he knows he’s found lucas’s prostate. he aims for that spot, rubbing relentlessly against it while sucking on his rim. he goes until lucas’s thighs start trembling again, and despite the fact that lucas reaches behind himself to push eliott’s face further in, he manages to force himself to pull back. he _needs_ to be inside him, and he wants lucas to come then. 

thankfully, lucas doesn’t argue. he just stands in his spot as eliott lubes up his dick, stroking it a couple of times. “baby,” eliott breathes out, “bend over. turn around and brace your hands on the windowsill.” he praises himself for closing the blinds, because lucas does as he’s told, and they don’t have to worry about being seen. 

eliott lines himself up and then pushes in, one hand guiding his dick and the other grasping lucas’s shoulder to pull him back onto him. lucas is letting out these soft moans, not as loud as he usually is, and eliott doesn’t even care. knows this time is different, the feelings are different, that the moans mean more now than any screams have before. 

he gives lucas a few seconds to adjust before beginning to roll his hips, starting a slow grind before pulling all the way out and snapping his hips forward again. his pace isn’t overly fast or hard or punishing, it’s just firm. sure. _definite._ something lucas will feel in the morning, but not too much; the ghost of a pleasant ache that will remind him of every single love letter that eliott has kissed into his skin. 

“i love you,” eliott says, while he’s thinking about it. “i could spend all day just looking at you. but i’d much rather spend all day touching you like this, touching every single inch of you. can’t believe you’re real. can’t believe you’re mine. _fuck.”_

“such a sap,” lucas breathes out, and then moans a quiet hymn of eliott’s name. over and over. “shit, baby, i’m—”

eliott knows he’s close. he’s gotten more stimulation than eliott has, so he’s not surprised. he just keeps fucking into him, draping himself across lucas’s back and pressing kisses to the back of his neck. 

“i never knew love could be like this,” eliott pants out, and it suddenly feels wrong that he’s saying all of this to lucas’s back. he pulls out and then wraps his arms around lucas’s middle, helps him lay down on the white sheet on the floor. the whole thing feels oddly familiar, like they should be jackson pollocking something, and this white sheet should be splattered with paint and… other things. 

“wanted to see you,” eliott explains, as he pushes back in. 

lucas lights up at the feeling of being full again, back arching beautifully, and eliott wants to draw that, too. “fuck, eliott. i’m not gonna last, you… you feel so good. how do you always feel so good? always know how to give it to me just like i want it, need it…”

“because i know you,” eliott whispers, leaning down to press his face into lucas’s neck. lucas’s legs wrap around eliott’s waist, a devil’s snare that he never wants to escape. “i mean it, by the way. i didn’t know that love could be like this. i didn’t know… that i could feel this way about someone. that i could love somebody with everything in me and yet still find myself loving them more and more. i never run out of love to give you.”

to drive his point home, he thrusts a bit harder, reminds lucas of one of the many ways his love can feel. and he hopes lucas feels it when he sleeps tonight, and when he wakes up tomorrow, and when he’s with his friends, and even when eliott is in class on monday. he hopes lucas always feels it. 

“love you so— gonna come, i—” lucas doesn’t get to form a coherent thought before he’s spilling between them, painting his own stomach in white, and eliott decides to draw lucas’s orgasm face one day. 

after a few more thrusts, he pulls out, coming all over lucas’s stomach, too. he and lucas mix together on his stomach, and in the most perverse and poetic way eliott’s ever thought of, he realizes that you really can’t tell where one of them ends and the other begins there. 

but then he realizes he’s waxing poetic about cum, and he shakes himself out of it. 

he presses sloppy kisses to lucas’s lips, holding him tight to his body, memorizing how all the hard lines feel against his own. that’ll probably help his drawing, too. 

“i think,” lucas breathes, “that’s the least we’ve ever kissed during sex. you wouldn’t shut the fuck up.”

“did you want me to?”

lucas shakes his head. “no. love hearing how you love me. come here.” he pulls eliott back down for kisses, and for a few moments, they both lose themselves in the kissing. too wrapped up in each other to remember everything around them. 

but lucas, the diva he is, comes to his senses—literally. “there’s cum drying on me right now,” he whines. “get me a towel.”

eliott sighs, standing up and moving towards the couch. “hold on, i’ll get you a towel in a second.” he grabs his sketchbook and pencils, and then stands over lucas’s body where he’s sprawled out on the sheet. “stay like that.”

“eliott, don’t—”

“shh,” eliott shushes. “trust me. nobody else will ever see this. so trust me.” 

he draws and shades and erases as fast as he can, until he’s satisfied with the result. maybe he did need the practice, but the drawing is much better than he’d originally thought. the last minute additions had definitely saved it. 

“do you want to see it?” eliott asks, tossing his charcoal pencil onto the table nearest to himself. 

lucas considers for a moment and then nods, reaching up for the sketchbook. “go get me a towel while i look at it,” he says, when eliott passes him the book. eliott rolls his eyes but nods, padding his way to the bathroom to get a hand towel from the linen closet and wetting it with warm water. while he’s at it, he grabs his own robe and ties it around himself. 

when he comes back to lucas, he finds lucas blushing, staring at the drawing with a certain intensity that eliott’s only ever seen from him once in his life. it makes something weird settle in his gut, suddenly scared he’d crossed a line and creeped lucas out too much. 

“what do you think?” he asks, smoothing the damp towel across lucas’s stomach to clean him up. “is it good?” he adds, as he dips his hand lower to clean up any lube or spit leftover. they’ll definitely need to take a shower. 

“it’s… it’s beautiful,” lucas whispers, like he isn’t sure he’s allowed to say that about a drawing of himself. “is that really how you see me? that—that _pretty?”_

eliott stares at him incredulously. “of course. i just spent the better part of an hour telling you how beautiful you are, baby. that’s just who you are.” he accepts the sketchbook back, and admires his work. admires lucas’s body, the blissed out post-orgasm face addition and cum stains and all. yeah, this will never see the light of day. “you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, in case lucas needs to hear it again. 

he’ll spend the rest of his life saying it. however long it takes for the words to deep into lucas’s pores. until he believes it. 

“i love you,” lucas whispers, reaching his arms up. “come here.”

“i love you, too,” eliott replies, and he goes. 

**Author's Note:**

> title from adore you by harry styles
> 
> find me on twitter @finelinealbums  
> find me on tumblr @elullemant


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